Signed up to just to be able to write about one of my favoritest movies of all time. 1. Karen Crowder - the obvious antagonist… But. - She is just the spoke in a wheel - the first time we see her, 2 wonderfully crafted details show us she is not in control: she sweats profusely, and seems to be speaking honestly… just before it is revealed that she is actually rehearsing a speech. - When she orders the murder, the handholding that's done by the guy who honors the contract reveal how much her act is desperate and last resort. This is a woman who is clearly conscious and conflicted about choosing sides. Either she does what her company needs her to do, and is a good soldier… Or she doesn't. And then she failed. At no point is there an alternative for her, whether in her mind or in her actions. So the antagonist is really the system - a system that eats its young, that destroys its best elements if they threaten it. More specifically, the system is corporations and their use of lawyers, not for justice, but against it. Not to fight for the truth, but to cover it and to buy it. And Michael Clayton plays by the rules, he is no ideologue and no hero. He only destroys Karen because she killed his friend and then tried to kill him. FINALLY! A Great, honest, powerful movie, where the hero is NOT an idealist, NOT someone who has an unnatural excess of decency about him. Michael is a consummate pro whose life is threatened, and who does what's right because that's the only action that can save his life. 2.Marty Bach is the powerful, smart, excellent lawyer - someone who knows how to work people and cases. Michael's failing is that he can't control himself (he gambles) and he can't control others (he constantly fails to control Arthur, has lost his wife's trust and love, has a deadbeat brother who gets him in trouble, and cannot even get money from Marty, even though they are close friends and Marty is immensely wealthy). Marty, on the other hand, is absolutely in control and has no problem dealing with the truth of the horror of what it is that law firms actually do - destroy innocent peoples' lives. The first time we see him, a journalist is on the phone, and he doesn't fall for her tricks for a single second - he knows that she doesn't have anything and is fishing for clues. He knows even how her world operates - and knows she's calling him just before the deadline and that she doesn't have what she needs, and that the story is not going to be printed. 3. Arthur Edens Only someone who is clearly mentally sick could decide to fight the system. Again, like Michael, Arthur is no hero. He had a breakdown, not because of the injustice...

… But because he almost fell in love with a beautiful innocent victim, in a maniac-depressive moment. He's a tragic character who tries to redeem himself, AND AGAIN. FAN-f*king-TASTIC. What he does is not carefully build a systematically damning case based on collected evidence. He just goes all out - effectively showing that the only way someone would react against the system is by breaking down, and the only way that person would fight evil is by becoming a useless loose cannon. I could go on and on, but suffice it to say that both Arthur and Michael Clayton are shabby righters of wrongs. One goes all bat-shit insane and the other does the right thing only when he's pushed to it. One of the best movies of all times, if you ask me. And the most definitive indictment against the power of corporations and law firms as powerful forces who use justice to destroy the innocents.

From what I remember, I love how they alluded to Michael Clayton's background. Really great devices, Karen asking who he is initially and Marty Bach basically reading him the riot act about not thinking about going back to being a normal attorney. In the end when he slays Karen Crowder you get a glimpse of what kind of lawyer he was/is. It's pretty awesome Same with Arthur Edens, for most of the story you see him in his new form, evolved (think Silence of Lambs or Red Dragon). You get just a glimpse of what kind of power attorney he was when he's talking with Michael Clayton about the New York laws and having someone committed. The two hit men are just stand out supporting characters, so efficient.

Hey, where are all the people who voted for this script? :) How one sees the characters as functions is all relative on which story paradigm their viewing the events through. I've made my case for Karen as protagonist the last couple of days because she's the one who's pursuing the story goal throughout the entire course of the film. But rather than rehash that, I'd rather explain a bit more how I'm looking at this through the Dramatica theory of story because it actually focuses less on protagonists and antagonists. Within Dramatica, there are four story through lines: the Objective Story which, here, is about U/North fighting a class action lawsuit. This is what everyone in the story is dealing with on some level or another. Within the Objective Story (OS) itself, we have specific characters as functions. Yes, there's protagonists and antagonists, but rather than focus on those, there's two in particular that are important because they provide two of the three other through lines: The Main Character (MC) is Michael. He's the character in the story for who we see the events through. This is obviously an important story choice because had we been given a different character, we would have had a different story and different experience. While the main character is embroiled in the events of the larger OS, he also has his own issues that are unique to him. Typically, they're related and intersect with the OS - both of which happen here. The main character also has his point of view which is directly challenged by the third through line: The Impact Character (IC). Here, it's Arthur. While in other paradigms it's important to see him as a nemesis or antagonist to the story goal, here it's important to see his function in the story as the vehicle for instigating change in Michael. This leads to the fourth and final through line: The Relationship Through line (I'll call it RS as that seems to be the typical lingo). This is where the heart of the movie occurs, the passionate battle between the Main Character and the Impact Character. One of these will remain steadfast, forcing the other to change and in this case, it's Arthur who impacts Michael to change and, as a result, Michael solves his personal problems while we see how they ultimately fit into the larger, OS story. As a result, there's less emphasis on the traditional functions of protagonists and antagonists and more on the relationship between two key characters that force one or the other to change because that's where the power of the story (and its meaning) springs from. There's a very clear point in which we comprehend Michael's change, both with his personal and professional struggles. Personally, it's subtle in that he actually allows his druggie brother to "make things right", or at least attempt to, by picking him up. Professionally, it's when Michael reiterates Arthur's line "I am Shiva, God of death". Dramatica can be a very challenging theory to work with and the learning curve is immense, but I believe once one starts understanding it - it opens doors to a better understanding of relationships between theme, plot, characters, etc., and how they all fit (and work) together. For those interested, a copy of the story form can be found here: http://dramatica.com/story/storyforms/storyforms/michaelclayton_storyform.pdf There is also an excellent podcast from their usergroup which can be found here: http://dramatica.com/community/user_group/index-10.html Now, stepping outside that theory, there's some nifty "reflections" going on here between various characters. This is neat to look at because it's the relationships between the characters that actually define them, yet, we see shards of Michael in others like figments of broken glass. The most obvious one is Arthur. At one point, they have a moment of the infamous "you and I, we're pretty much alike" where Arthur talks about them both being janitors. But the reflection that takes place isn't obvious to Michael at first and it takes time to develop. By the end of the film, Michael has essentially become Arthur, minus the breakdown. His cab ride mirrors Arthur's walking amongst Time Square. He becomes what Arthur was attempting to be when introduced at the beginning of the film. The other character is Karen. She's the hot shot in over her head. She is, in a sense, where Michael wishes he could be. Yet, at the same time - her function ends up taking on characteristics of Michael's character as a fixer. It's as if the two are, probably around the same age as well, are standing on either side of a mirror - the reflection always making the right hand on one the left hand on the other, meaning, it's not the same, but rather characteristics reversed. In her weakest moment, Karen caves and implicates herself. Michael earlier tells his son: You're not going to be one of those people who goes through life wondering why things keep falling out of the sky around them. You have some real steel in you Henry. Inside. I see it every time I look at you. I see it right now. I don't know where the hell you got it from, but you got it. Michael may very well be talking about himself here, giving himself a pep talk in the mirror - projecting what he wishes he was like onto his son. When he confronts Karen in the finale, he's the one who displays some real steel. It was inside all along, it just took the events of the story to bring it out of him when things, especially car parts, fell out of the sky around him. And finally, there's the whole bit of reflectiveness regarding the story within the story: Henry's book, Realm & Conquest is a story who's events mirror the journey Arthur is taking - about being "summoned" to do something that's much bigger than himself. It's a nice subtle touch that plays throughout the movie.

I think Gilroy has mentioned that the character who really changes in this movie is Karen. In fact the movie was inspired as I understand it as a way to understand the genesis of this kind of villain, rather than jumping into a story and taking the antagonist character and her attributes as given. And it is indeed a really compelling train wreck, best illustrated by that incredible scene in the back straight of Act two where Karen meets Verne in the street and they discuss the "options" in the most elliptical way imaginable. "OK you understand, or OK proceed?" Gold. I've worked as a lawyer in big corporate environments like that and seen people frighteningly similar to first Act Karen, so it's a delicious schadenfreude to watch that play out into the gross tragedy it does for her. As for Michael, the reason I really love this script/movie is because his character DOESN'T go through a major arc or redemption or other formulaic journey. It's like some of those great 70s crime movies or Leone's dollar trilogy. The world doesn't change the character: the character changes the world. In this case (Clayton) by opting the hell out, and exposing a giant conspiracy on the way. The point is that Michael is motivated (his inner goal or need) by getting out, not by saving the world, but he kinda manages to do that anyway. But it's not a complete moral redemption -- he's still got the firm's money (or at least the debt relief it provided him) and he's been complicit in a lot of things for a lot of years, a fact that he acknowledges to Karen in the climactic showdown: "I'm the guy you pay, not the guy you kill." It's true that Michael experiences something of an awakening in the film, when he finds out the lengths his clients are prepared to go to for money - murdering his friend Arthur and trying to murder him. But Gilroy is at pains to point out that Michael is not so much motivated by a renewed sense of justice or some such, but simply by his visceral reaction to those events (Arthur's death and the car bomb). As such it's the rare movie that's able to tap into that primal need we all have for catharsis in movies, without making a song and dance about it -- it leaves us to simmer and wallow with Michael. Really allows that character to breathe real breath. It has to be said that most films don't achieve that -- we get the character arc as catharsis, often in wonderfully entertaining and emotionally provocative ways, but too often the signposts are laid out for us so obviously, like laugh lights at a TV taping, that it puts a little bit of a barrier between us and the story/character.

Great analysis, TBBB. Nice to see another Dramatica fan here.

Okay, it's late here on the East Coast and I just got done with the live-tweet screening of "Michael Clayton," and wanted to throw down some thoughts re characters. Before I do, I've read each of your observations and really, they're all insightful. The thing about characters, perhaps more than any other narrative element, is there is no right or wrong in analyzing them. Characters, especially well-drawn and morally nuanced figures such as we have in this movie, are organic entities. We may typify them and there may be truth in those assessments, but at the end of the day characters are like people: they are a confounding mixed bag of emotions, experiences, memories and masks they wear in public. With that frame, I will use the tools with which I am most comfortable in analyzing the movie: character archetypes. I see five of them in most movies. They are: Protagonist, Nemesis, Attractor, Mentor, Trickster. Protagonist: The lead character, the character through whose perspective the story is told, the character who typically goes through the most significant metamorphosis. Nemesis: Provides opposition to the Protagonist, often represents the Protagonist’s shadow, their dark impulses, tied somehow to the Protagonist’s goal. Attractor: Characters who are most intimately tied to the Protagonist’s emotional development, often a love interest, Heart. Mentor: Characters who are most intimately tied to the Protagonist’s intellectual development, wisdom, Head. Trickster: Characters who test the Protagonist, switching allegiance from ally to enemy, enemy to ally, intentionally or not helping to prepare the Protagonist for their Final Struggle. Here is my take on the story's character archetypes paradigm: Protagonist: Michael Clayton Nemesis: Karen Crowder Attractor: Horses Mentor: Henry Clayton Trickster: Arthur Edens Protagonist: While I think it's fair to look at the story through Karen's eyes as a Protagonist as a literary exercise, and she does go through a significant transformation, it is hard for me to consider any other character in the movie as the actual Protagonist than Michael. He is front and center at the heart of the Plotline and Themeline, his is the most compelling story, and... oh, let's not forget the movie is called "Michael Clayton." This is a character in a deep state of Disunity at the beginning: * He is a fixer who can't fix himself. * He is a lawyer who isn't practicing law [at least as a litigator as he imagines himself]. * He is divorced and only sees his son occasionally. * He makes a lot of money, but owes more than he has. * But most importantly, he has lost virtually any connection he once had to humanity. The only people tethering him to reality are Arthur and Henry. Otherwise he is completely adrift, a lost soul, and heading toward destruction. I like to ask this question of Protagonist figures: Why does this story have to happen to this character at this time? In the story universe of "Michael Clayton," Arthur Edens goes off his nut because that's where he is at in his life journey. But from a more macro view of Michael's journey, Arthur loses his shit because that is how Michael is going to save his soul. Nemesis: Karen is a most interesting Nemesis figure as she is so ill-equipped to be a villain [as Scott Frazier pointed out in our live-tweet session]. Indeed that is one of the reasons she is so compelling: most often Nemesis characters don't go through any sort of metamorphosis, they are who they are, they know what they want, and they provide a consistent and powerful oppositional dynamic in relation to the Protagonist. From the first time they meet, Karen doesn't cotton to Michael, nor he to her. Initially that could be the stuff of a rom-com meet cute: boy meets girl, boy hates girl, girl hates boy, they fall in love. But their dynamic is considerably different. She has a problem [Arthur] that needs fixing. Michael is supposed to fix it. Michael is exhausted by fixing other people's problems when his own personal life is a wreck. Plus he has an attachment to Arthur. Not satisfactory for Karen. As events evolve, Karen has to grow into the role of corporate eviscerator. That scene with Verne where she works her way and his thinking into the idea of whacking Arthur is sheer brilliance. It's not really in her to be a murderer. But as we see her shifting her pitch in the beginning of the story, we learn that she is a malleable creature driven by greed and power. So she tries to become her own Shiva. And almost succeeds. In a sense, she tries to become her own fixer. And in that respect, represents Michael's shadow. Whereas Michael still has some shreds of emotion and humanity, witness his illogical support for Arthur and parental connection to Henry, Karen has nothing more than her connection to the company. She represents the worst of what Michael feels about himself. Indeed as I interpret Jung, Nemesis characters are often projections of a Protagonist 'shadow,' their darkest impulses. Which is why the ending is so perfect: He starts off a fixer who doesn't want to fix shit any more. That forces her to become a proactive fixer on her part. And she almost pulls it off. But then Michael raises his game, playing his best hand of poker [sans cards], and traps her, fixing his own situation but good. Attractor: Again a HT to Scott Frazier who pointed out in the tweet session a whole 'Michael connecting to nature' dynamic, and that is all focused and crystallized by that seemingly random bit of business with the horses. The movie is urban, urban, urban, urban, then suddenly... stop. Rural. Field. Fog. Horses. This bizarre moment with Michael standing in front of three horses. It is a truly apocryphal moment [so I wish there had four horses per the book of Revelations, but maybe Gilroy never got that religious download]. Nature. We have horses. Bread. And Anna from rural Wisconsin, described in the script as a "dairy madonna." Those are the minimal narrative elements in the story that provide a sort of connection for Michael to nature. But as minimal and fractured as they are, they all come together for Michael and feed his metamorphosis: from fixing other people's problems to fixing his own. The horses, what do they represent? Nature, yes. But also wild. Free. Beauty. Powerful. He has an existential moment with them, underscored by the fact his car [symbolic of his connection to his Old World] gets blown up. BTW as noted in the tweet session, there is horse language at least three times including saddle up, if you think you have the horses. That can't be coincidental. Mentor: Henry provides wisdom to Arthur in a really overt way, creating a bridge for Arthur to the book series Henry loves: "Realm and Conquest." But he also provides a wisdom function in relation to Michael, a projection into which Michael can pour his hope for redemption, a young unblemished version of Michael. There is that great scene on P. 86 where Michael stops the car to proclaim to Henry that "You’re not gonna be one of those people who goes through life wondering why things keep falling out of the sky around them." In other words, Henry is the anti-Michael. So when Michael has a 'multiple choice': Take the money and run, or face up to the moral corruption at the heart of United Northfield, he makes the right choice. I don't think it's a random choice that Henry has given himself over so fully to the book series and the RPG game as it shows him immersing himself in a universe bigger than himself. At the end of the day, Michael needs to break away from the narrow confines of who he perceives himself to be. Henry provides inspiration in that way. Trickster: It can't be anybody else but Arthur. Friend. Enemy. Can't trust him for a second. Provides on test after another. And in the end, forces Michael to confront his crap. Finally a few words about names. Michael Clayton: Clay as in malleable. Karen Crowder: Crowder as in shaped by the impulses of the crowd. Arthur Edens: Eden as in some sort of elegiac state, one that Arthur believes himself to have found, his wandering through the city in beatific amazement. I have thoughts on the story structure, I'll try to get to those tomorrow.

I was struck by how many characters can be thought of as "shadow selves" of Michael. The movie is almost Michael's dream, where everyone in it represents a part of him. Karen and Arthur are the most obvious. Arthur has been part of the same organization, the same journey as Michael -- they both balance between accepting and rejecting who they are. Karen is going down that same road with absolutely no equilibrium -- unlike Michael's interaction with Mr. Greer (his "save the cat" scene), Karen doesn't know the limits of her power. But there are so more. Verne and Iker are clearly versions of Michael, with a little less law and a little more C-4 in their toolkits. Timmy and Henry are both, in their ways, alternate versions of Michael -- Timmy the averted tragic version, Henry the lost ideal.

Thanks, Teddy. I ran in the opposite direction the first time I came across Dramatica about 8 or so years ago. I received feedback on one of my scripts saying "you're trying to tell an adult thriller through the eyes of a child and it doesn't work" - which was interesting feedback considering they actually awarded me first place in their contest, lol. Anyway, they didn't say why, in their opinion, it didn't work which left me to my own devices and searching - which then lead me back to Dramatica. It's the only theory I'm aware of that separates the main character from the protagonist function - something I was doing as my story was influenced by To Kill a Mockingbird. Started reading the book and some articles and the whole analogy of a story being a battlefield had me hooked. Everything suddenly made sense/clicked... at least from the 30,000 elevation level, lol.

I'm still new to it, just discovering it a year ago or so, but the battlefield analogy was a real aha moment for me too. It opened up so many possibilities.

A lot of good stuff there, Scott - thanks for staying up late and posting it! What chances for success, do you believe, a script written like this on spec, with no agent/manager etc., would have going through "the system"? I'm just curious as I find this to be, at least in terms of complexity and nuances, similar to the style and stories I write... which I acknowledge makes it more of an uphill battle as I should find some high concept idea and run with it.

That's a good question, TBBB. Let me ask that to some screenwriters who are big fans of the movie. Personally I think it's one of those scripts if written by an unknown could get them repped, but probably have one hell of a time getting made. Clearly the writing is superior. But what is the movie? Drama? Thriller? A Protagonist who is behind the curve [and the audience] almost the entire way through the movie? Deeply flawed Protagonist who lives in a morally ambiguous story universe who manages one small victory, but left to face a deeply uncertain personal future? In the right hands, all of that is the stuff of a really good movie. But I say that after the fact and those hands include Gilroy, Clonney, Swinton, and the rest. Looking at the script, unproduced and on the page, it would take some doing to see this as a viable movie in today's marketplace. I'll be curious to see what the others say.